


Lot of Love and Affection

by lovethatwewerein



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, seblainiversary2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:16:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27417877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovethatwewerein/pseuds/lovethatwewerein
Summary: Blaine rubs a hand roughly over his nose, the skin red and itchy. He’s been feeling a bit out of it for days now, his head hazy and his throat sore but he’s soldiered on, keeping his head up when all he wanted was to curl up on his desk and sleep while the kids watched a film or something.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Sebastian Smythe
Comments: 11
Kudos: 49





	Lot of Love and Affection

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I'm sorry if this is no good. I struggled getting anything written for this prompt so... this is what you get. Thanks for reading.
> 
> Title from 'Angels' by Robbie Williams

Blaine rubs a hand roughly over his nose, the skin red and itchy. He’s been feeling a bit out of it for days now, his head hazy and his throat sore but he’s soldiered on, keeping his head up when all he wanted was to curl up on his desk and sleep while the kids watched a film or something. 

Sebastian’s still at work, some intense case keeping him going until late every day this week, so Blaine just strips, bundling up in the warmest clothes he can find - sweats and one of Sebastian’s Dalton hoodies - and crawls into bed. He’s out almost as soon as his head hits the pillow, beads of sweat popping on his forehead as he shivers. 

Hours later, the curtains closed and the room completely dark. There’s some shuffling from outside the bedroom, muffled curses and some pots and pans banging loudly so Sebastian is definitely home. He gathers the comforter around his body, walking slowly into the living room and collapsing on the couch. 

His head is pounding and his throat burns but he just curls up until he’s barely taking up a seat. He closes his eyes, listening to his husband wander around the apartment. He’s not sure when he dozes off but soon enough Sebastian is tapping him awake gently. 

“Hey, killer,” he says softly, helping Blaine sit up and handing him a glass of hot lemon tea. He smiles lightly, cupping the mug in both hands. “You doing okay?”

He shakes his head, regretting it immediately when it stings. Sebastian grins in sympathy, stroking the curls away from his sweaty forehead. “I feel awful.”

“You knew you were getting sick a few days ago.”

“But I didn’t want to miss work,” he argues weakly, sipping his drink gently. It doesn’t soothe him straight away but it’s warm and settles nicely in his stomach. “The kids have their Christmas play coming up. I have to be there.”

“And you will be. When you are feeling better,” he tells him, taking the cup from his hands and pushing him back into a resting position. Blaine huffs, pouting as he sinks into the cushions. “The kids will survive a couple of days with a substitute.”

He’s blearlily mumbles, “I’d do a better job,” before passing out again. 

*

The next day, he doesn’t wake up until noon. He’s covered in sweat and his legs are tangled in the sheets. He stumbles in the direction of the bathroom, dragging a hand through his hair - it comes out way too sticky to be normal and he regrets not pushing himself into a shower when he got home from work yesterday. 

“What are you doing?” Sebastian pops his head around the bedroom door as Blaine narrowly avoids walking into the dresser. “Get back into bed.”

“Why aren’t you at work?” he attempts to wiggle out of Sebastian’s grip as he guides him back to the bed. “I need to shower.”

“One - I took the day off. Two - why didn’t you just say so?”

“Because you, you have that case to do,” he murmurs, holding on tightly to Sebastian’s bicep as he helps him back up, guiding him in the direction of the bathroom. “The one with the murder and the sheep farmer and - is Hunter working on that one?”

“No, he’s not,” Sebastian laughs, sitting him on the toilet so he can turn the shower on. Blaine tugs the sweater over his head, getting it caught and giving up when his arms feel weak. “And I can afford to take a day off to look after you.” 

“I never get sick,” he says when the sweater is pulled up by Sebastian, his husband smiling at him when he pouts. “I have the immune system of a superhero. I’m Nightbird.”

“I know you are.”

“Nightbird doesn’t get sick,” he ducks his head onto Sebastian’s shoulder as he pulls his trousers off. “How’s he gonna fight crime?”

“Even superheroes need a break sometimes, Blaine.”

“Well, they shouldn’t.”

Sebastian puts his own shirt in the hamper with Blaine’s clothes, helping him under the water and leaning him against the shower wall while he finishes stripping himself off. He joins Blaine, holding him up as he tries to wash his hair. 

“I can’t do it,” Blaine complains about five minutes in, desperate to sink back into bed and sleep for a year. “I’m too tired.”

“We just need to finish washing your hair. If you wore less gel…”

“I know. You keep telling me that you prefer my curls but, and this is important, what if the kids bully me,” he points at Sebastian, his eyes half shut. “They did when I was seven so they might do it again.”

“I’m sure it won’t be a problem,” he jokes, handing Blaine a towel. “They respect you. Now, let’s get you back into bed.”

“Can I have soup?”

“I will go and buy you soup,” Sebastian promises, handing Blaine another sweatshirt and matching bottoms. As soon as he’s lying down, he tucks him in, wrapping him in the cocoon of blankets he’s somehow found. “Because I can’t make it. Go back to sleep.”

“Okay,” he whispers, tucking his head half-under the duvet, barely noticing the kiss on his forehead before his husband leaves. 

*

It takes a couple of days but he manages to sweat the fever out, plenty of hot tea and soup keeping his body going despite the chill existing solely within him. Sebastian went back to work the day before, apologising as much as possible even if it didn’t really matter whether he was there or not considering the amount of sleep Blaine was getting. 

Sebastian’s already gone by the time he wakes up on Friday morning, ready to face the day ahead with a newer, stronger energy. He’s got a Christmas play to prepare, cards to make and children to send home when they have an intense cold. He’s got this. 

It’s not until he’s driving, pulling into his parking space at the school, that he notices the lack of gel in his hair, curls wild and free. The one day he doesn’t carry spare gel in his car. Resigning himself to fate, he enters his classroom, organising the card by colour and size before the first of the children show up. 

Turns out, he had nothing to worry about. Amelie comes in first, her father rushing off as soon as he spots Blaine in the classroom with a wave, and she tugs gently on his curls. “I really like your hair, Mr A.” 

“Thanks, Amelie,” he grins, nose crinkling as he sends her to her desk with a snowman template to decorate. “I like your hair too.” 

The day passes and they sing some songs, laugh about Christmas stories and Tommy hands him a card from all of them telling him to ‘get well soon’. He loves it - it reminds him of why he got into teaching in the first place - and he drives home grateful for the children he teaches daily, no matter how often they get him ill. 

Dinner is on the table when Sebastian gets home, some pasta dish that Blaine found on facebook and liked the look of. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Sebastian greets, a gentle kiss pressed to the top of his head as he makes his way to the bedroom to get out of his suit. “Glad to see you’re better.”

“It was great. The kids really missed me.”

“Of course they did,” Sebastian looks up at where Blaine’s leaning against the doorframe. “You’re Blaine Anderson - best teacher in the world.” 

“I’m far from the best teacher in the world,” he chuckles, ducking his head to conceal his blush. 

“Not according to that mug in the kitchen they gave you last year.”

He nods, crossing his arms across his chest. “Fair point.” 

His husband wraps his arms loosely around Blaine’s waist, brushing his thumb across the skin revealed by the old t-shirt he’s wearing. “I’m glad you’re okay, killer.”

“Well, thank you for looking after me.”

“Today,” Sebastian says, pulling him in tighter. “Forever.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm at love-that-we-were-in on tumblr.


End file.
